


It's Time

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2014 [21]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Anxiety, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 05:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3435725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine have twelve hours before Kurt has to be on a plane for New York City, and this is how they spend it.</p><p>Takes place the night before Kurt moves to New York after Blaine tells him in the episode 'The New Rachel' that it’s time for him to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Time

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompt ‘please’, and then set it aside because I couldn’t get it together, but I was inspired by the elevator scene in the season 6 episode ‘Hurt Locker’ (not the kiss, but the way they spend their time.) There’s also inspiration from other episodes in here. Warning for angst, anxiety, a nightmare that involves ‘The Break-up’ (even though it hasn’t happened in this, you’ll see when you read it), and sex.

_8:03p.m._

“Oh…oh _Gooood_ ,” Kurt moans, drawing the word out as his orgasm starts to hit him, his exclamation of ecstasy extremely pornographic and unfortunately loud.

Blaine, having already succumb to his orgasm seconds before, chuckles nervously beneath the body of his boyfriend.

“Shhh,” Blaine shushes, holding on to Kurt’s waist. “My mom will hear you.”

Shuddering, Kurt looks down in to Blaine’s flushed face with one incredulous eyebrow raised.

“She knows I’m leaving for New York tomorrow,” Kurt pants. “You don’t think she knows what we’re up here doing?”

“Well, yeah,” Blaine admits, moving his arms up to wrap around Kurt’s torso as a thoroughly spent Kurt lays over him, “but I still would rather not advertise.”

Kurt nods into Blaine’s shoulder, which makes Blaine laugh again, but he still keeps one ear open for any sound of footsteps in the hallway outside his bedroom.

“How long…did that take…do you think?” Kurt asks, fighting to catch his breath.

“Uh, twenty minutes,” Blaine says after reaching for his phone and checking the time, sounding, Kurt feels, insufferably too composed after pretty much twenty straight minutes of being ridden into his mattress.

“Damn, I’m drained,” Kurt mumbles, but he doesn’t want to fall victim to the blissful pull of sleep. He _can’t_ go to sleep. Not now. Not tonight.

“So much for the all night sex marathon, huh?” Blaine giggles, pressing kisses on to Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt shakes his head, a weak roll of his head on his neck from left to right.

“But we need to get as much as we can in,” Kurt complains, his voice muffled.

“No pun intended?” Blaine asks.

Kurt’s head pops up.

“No, happy accident, but that’s not the point…” Kurt shifts his weight and looks into Blaine’s eyes, watching as they return from nearly black to his preferred shade of whiskey-gold. “I’m only going to be here for the next twelve hours.”

“I know,” Blaine whispers, putting a hand to the back of Kurt’s head and tilting his face down to rest their foreheads together, “I know. But hey, twelve hours is a long time. So, why don’t we regroup, take a quick rinse, throw on some clothes, make some snacks, and gear up for round two?”

Kurt kisses Blaine on the lips gently, pressing his smile against them.

“Sounds like a plan.”

_8:47 p.m._

“You know, I was worried I’d feel like this night was flying by too fast,” Kurt says, slipping on a pair of beige and pink houndstooth oven mitts, “but it honestly feels like it’s going to last forever.”

“Yeah, well, thank God,” Blaine says. Blaine waits for Kurt to turn his back, bending over to put a pan of cookies into the oven, before he steals a freshly baked cookie off the sheet on the counter. He bites into it, moaning at the delectable combination of moist chocolate and chewy caramel (molten, though it is) in his mouth.

“I’ll never understand how you do it,” he remarks around the searing hot confection on his tongue.

“How I do what?” Kurt asks, grimacing, but not too harshly, at the mess of melted chocolate and caramel dripping down his boyfriend’s chin.

“How you manage not to burn the caramel on your Salted Caramel Turtle cookies. Every time I try to make them, they always come out hard.”

“Practice, honey, practice,” Kurt says, carefully lifting the finished cookies off the parchment paper and transferring them to a wire cooling rack.

“Well, I will never be able to replicate your technique,” Blaine concludes, breaking his cookie apart and separating the pieces before his eyes to watch the gooey caramel pull, then popping one of the pieces in his mouth.

“That’s the idea,” Kurt says, peeling the used sheet of parchment paper off the cookie sheet and replacing it with a new one for the next batch of cookies in red velvet. “Then you can’t ever leave me.”

Blaine stops chewing. He watches Kurt advert his eyes, focused on the task in front of him, dropping scarlet balls of dough onto the cookie sheet. Kurt made the comment in passing, as a joke, but it was so much more than that. Blaine feels it.

“Kurt,” he says, watching Kurt drop the batter onto the parchment paper, noticing a slight tremor in his hands that wasn’t there before, “I’m always, _always_ going to love you. I’m never going to leave you.”

“Yeah,” Kurt nods, “you say that now, but what is that saying – out of sight, out of mind?”

“Remember what _you_ said?” Blaine asks, putting his piece of cookie down and wiping his hands on a towel before walking to where Kurt continues to drop cookie batter onto the parchment paper but with a little less finesse than before. “We’re going to call each other and text every day, Skype every night, and visit whenever we can. You are barely going to be out of my sight…” Blaine reaches him and puts his hands to Kurt’s face, pulling his gaze to his own, “and you’ll _never_ be out of my mind. I promise.”

Kurt smiles, finding it hard to meet Blaine’s eyes.

“You don’t need magical cookies to keep me around,” Blaine jokes and Kurt finally laughs, moving away from the cookies to give Blaine a hug. He nuzzles into Blaine’s neck and breathes him in, loving the way he smells especially mixed with the surrounding scent of cookie batter, chocolate, vanilla, and sugar.

The timer on the oven goes off for the next batch of cookies long before they’re ready to break away, but they do, needing to feel normal again for a little while before another emotional upheaval begins.

Kurt returns to his cookies, and Blaine tosses the last piece of his pilfered treat into his mouth.

“Mmm,” he moans as he savors the last bite, “but magical cookies can’t hurt.”

_9:30 p.m._

“497…498…500. I win again!” Blaine chirps, throwing down his pencil and notepad and doing a little victory dance, circling his arms in front of him and bouncing in his seat on the bed.

“What are you?” Kurt asks, tossing down his cards in disgust. “Some kind of card shark or something? At least now I know what you were doing up here when you weren’t masturbating.”

“We’re playing Uno, Kurt,” Blaine says with a laugh, gathering up the cards and preparing to shuffle, “with a deck that has Disney Princesses on it, no less.”

“Yeah, well, Brittany gave me those,” Kurt comments, picking up a blue number 9 card with a picture of Cinderella on it and tossing it back into the pile. “She said that every unicorn had to have one.”

Blaine quietly shuffles the cards. Kurt watches them fly back and forth in his hands as he does some elaborate shuffle that Cooper taught them last time he came to visit. Well, _tried_ to teach them. Blaine picked it up pretty quickly. Kurt was too busy picking _his_ cards up off the floor.

“You know,” Kurt says, grabbing the pencil and pad and turning to a clean page, “I think this is going to be what I miss most when I’m away from you.”

“What’s that?” Blaine asks, dealing the next hand.

“Just, you know, sitting around your room or my room, hanging out, talking, playing cards or listening to music.”

Blaine stops dealing with one card still in his hand.

“Yeah,” he says with a heavy swallow. “Yeah, I think I’ll miss this most, too.”

_10:15 p.m._

“Okay…” Kurt says, crossing his legs and pulling them in tight to his body as he gets ready to interpret Blaine’s sad attempts at miming, “it’s a movie…four words…first word…sounds like…”

Blaine tugs on his ear.

“Sounds like…”

Blaine shakes his head and tugs on his ear again.

Kurt frowns.

“Sounds like?” he asks, throwing up his hands in frustration.

Blaine shakes his head and makes a sweeping movement with his arms. Then he points to his ear.

“Sounds like…ear? Here?”

Blaine nods, pointing to Kurt with one hand and pointing to his nose with the other to indicate _on the nose_.

“Ear!” Kurt shouts, triumphantly. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

_10:49 p.m._

“For the last time, mom,” Blaine calls out stiffly through his door as Kurt dissolves into a fit of giggles on the bed beside him, “we don’t want to come downstairs and be part of a _Hair_ sing-along.”

“Are you sure?” his mom repeats for what has to be the eighth time in the last hour.

“Yes, we’re sure,” Blaine assures her, flopping back onto the pillows on his bed.

“But thank you for asking, Ms. Anderson,” Kurt calls out between chortles.

Blaine shoots him a disapproving glare.

“ _Kurt_!” he half-whines, half-scolds, “don’t encourage her!”

_11:00 p.m._

“If you could be a color, what would it be and why?”

Kurt, lying on his back on the bed turns onto his side to face his boyfriend, scrunching his nose at the question.

“What kind of question is that?” Kurt asks.

“Believe it or not, it was on the Princeton application back in 1993,” Blaine says, imparting this tidbit of knowledge with a superior tone that Kurt finds adorable, though coming from anyone else it would have been highly irritating.

“How do you even know that?” Kurt asks with a joking pout.

Blaine’s smile slips an inch, but his gaze doesn’t waver from Kurt’s eyes. They don’t have much time left, and Blaine doesn’t want to spend a single moment not looking into the fascinating, intricate, blue-grey of Kurt’s singular eyes.

“I…I was thinking about applying to Princeton,” Blaine admits.

Kurt’s pout becomes a frown, and his frown deepens, his brow drawing together in confusion.

“I didn’t know that.”

Blaine shrugs with one shoulder.

“It’s…not something I’ve told anybody yet.”

“O-kay,” Kurt says, trying not to sound offended. “But…why didn’t you tell _me_?”

Blaine’s eyes shift, like he wants to look somewhere else, but he fights the impulse.

“Because I didn’t know what you’d say.”

“Blaine,” Kurt puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently, “if that’s where you want to go, I’ll support you 100%. New Jersey is a stone’s throw from New York, and I hear they have an amazing performing arts program…”

“Medicine,” Blaine says apologetically.

Kurt’s smile dims, and then returns, but with a forced edge.

“Wh—-what?” Kurt asks. “I don’t…medicine?”

“Yeah,” Blaine admits. “My dad…he’s a Princeton legacy, and after he left…I thought that maybe if I went there, too, and I went to medical school…” Blaine pauses, thinking over his words carefully, but the next sentence doesn’t seem to want to come out. “He always wanted one of us to be a doctor and…”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts, shaking his shoulder, “is that what you want? Do you _want_ to be a doctor?”

The question stops Blaine in his tracks.

“I mean…I’ve thought about it, but…”

“Blaine,” Kurt cuts in more firmly, “do you _want_ to be a doctor? For _you_? For the rest of _your_ life?”

“Well, wouldn’t you be proud to be married to a doctor someday?” Blaine asks, avoiding the question.

“I would be proud to be married to a street sweeper if that’s what made you happy,” Kurt scoffs. “But I want to know, do you _want_ to be a doctor…for _you_ …to make _you_ happy…for the rest of _your_ life?”

Blaine opens his mouth to answer _yes_ , the answer he’s programmed himself to give should anybody ask, but he can’t. He closes his mouth again and shakes his head.

“No,” he says quietly. “I want to be a musician. I always have.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, moving in closer until Blaine can feel Kurt’s words, not just hear them, “you can’t live your life for your father. You can’t live your life for a man who isn’t here. Becoming a doctor to make him happy isn’t going to bring him back.”

Blaine’s mouth settles into a tight line and he nods.

“I know,” he agrees quietly, but the words get swallowed back into a sob.

Kurt pulls Blaine into his arms right as he starts to cry.

_12:33 a.m._

“Jesus Christ, Blaine,” Kurt moans into Blaine’s shoulder, melting into Blaine’s back as what’s left of the energy in his body bleeds away, siphoned off by that final, phenomenal orgasm. “I think I can sleep for a million years now.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, bending to kiss the arms wrapped around his chest but keeping himself pressed tight to his boyfriend’s body. “I’m not entirely sure I can move.”

There’s a minute of silence, of light breathing and contented sighs. Blaine peeks back over his shoulder when Kurt doesn’t make another remark, curious to see if he actually fell asleep.

“Kurt?”

“Shhh, don’t talk to me,” Kurt mumbles. “I’m hibernating.”

“Don’t you want to…you know…clean up and stuff?” Blaine asks, not at all eager to be parted from Kurt’s sweaty body but offering anyway.

Kurt sighs into Blaine’s curls, considering the question for a moment.

Blaine asked out of courtesy to Kurt. Kurt is the stickler for not sleeping in their mess, not Blaine. Blaine would prefer to sleep skin-to-skin, bodily fluids be damned, but it always kind of squicks Kurt out.

But not tonight.

“No,” Kurt says. “I want to stay just like this. I don’t want to be out of you yet.” He runs his nose through Blaine’s damp curls and sighs again, the sated sound of a man at peace. He hugs Blaine tighter, trying to fill an empty spot that grows every time he thinks of leaving. “I always sleep so much better with you in my arms. How in the world am I going to get to sleep without you?”

_1:25 a.m._

A horrible, awful dream shakes Blaine awake, strange and unwanted wisps of it clinging to his memory in the form of words he would rather cut out his own tongue than say.

_“I was with someone…I was lonely…I needed you, and you weren’t there…I’m sorry, Kurt…I’m so sorry…”_

Blaine looks around him in the dark. He can’t remember where he is. He doesn’t know whose arms are around him. He doesn’t know what day it is, what time. He spins quickly in the embrace that surrounds him and chokes on a cry of relief.

It’s Kurt. It’s always been Kurt. It will always be Kurt, the love of his life, come what may.

His lips tremble as he kisses his sleeping boyfriend’s face. He doesn’t want to wake him. Kurt has a big day ahead of him – a day of plane trips, of getting settled, finding Rachel, finding a place to stay, starting a new life…a life, that for a year, won’t have Blaine in it as much…

“I’m going to miss you Kurt,” Blaine whispers to Kurt’s sleeping face, his voice shaking, cracking over the words. “Every day I’m going to miss you, and want to hold you and kiss you and fool around with you, and you won’t be here.” Blaine stops and squeezes his eyes shut as tear after tear starts to fall. “But I love you, Kurt, and nothing is going to change that. Nothing at all.”

_3:14 a.m._

_“But I love you, Kurt…and nothing is going to change that…nothing at all…”_

“Wha—-“ Kurt mumbles, feeling himself whispered awake. “Blaine…honey…did you say something?”

Kurt blinks his eyes in the dark and gazes down in to Blaine’s face. At some point during the night, Blaine turned in his arms, and now they’re facing one another. Blaine looks so young, the way he always does when he’s asleep, but he looks so tired, too.

He looks like he’s been crying.

Kurt gently kisses down the tracks of Blaine’s tears, trying not to wake him, wondering if he should to say something that will put his mind at ease, but when Kurt reaches Blaine’s lips, they lazily capture his.

“How long have you been awake?” Kurt asks.

“I haven’t gone to sleep yet,” Blaine admits, even though his kisses are clumsier than normal, his lips numb with exhaustion.

“What can I do?” Kurt asks, feeling a pang of guilt knock dully in his chest. He knows he doesn’t have a reason to feel too guilty. Blaine was the one who told Kurt to go, who inspired him to take that final leap and just go for it, even though, in essence, there’s not much waiting for him when he does. But as hard as this is for Kurt, as terrifying really, he can see Blaine suffering, too. Blaine transferred to McKinley to be with Kurt, and now Kurt is leaving. They had been anchors for each other during high school, and without his anchor, Blaine will be floating free. “How can I help?”

“Just…kiss me?” Blaine asks, his voice heavy but sweet. “Kiss me until I fall asleep?”

“Alright,” Kurt agrees, pressing his lips to Blaine’s mouth, kissing him tenderly, coloring his lips with all the things he won’t have time to say, until he can feel Blaine’s face grow heavy, hears his breathing become soft and slow. He kisses Blaine until Blaine stops kissing him back, then wraps his boyfriend up in his arms and tries to follow him in sleep.

_5:09 a.m._

Blaine doesn’t know if he kisses Kurt first, or if Kurt kisses him first, his eyes still closed, his body only partially drifting between wanting to wake and needing to sleep. He doesn’t know if the hand running through his hair has always been there or not, doesn’t know if he had his leg wound between Kurt’s all night long, or if he did it a second ago unconsciously to draw Kurt’s body closer. Kurt’s hands run down the length of Blaine’s spine, pushing into the small of his back, begging for touch, begging for closeness. Kurt stretches his neck and Blaine’s mouth finds it, peppering his skin with kisses and light nips – bites Kurt will feel later but which won’t leave a mark. Kurt threads his fingers into Blaine’s curls and holds him tight, giving him permission to kiss more, to bite a little harder.

Kurt gasps at the brush of teeth against his throat, and that single sound becomes a spark.

Neither of them knows how it begins, who makes the decision for Blaine to top, who finds the condom and puts it on him, who rolls over first so that Kurt lies beneath Blaine’s body, or who shoves the covers aside to give them more room to move.

They only know that they had better make this last, because it’s going to be their only chance to be together like this before Kurt leaves.

_8:00 a.m._

Both Kurt’s alarm on _his_ phone and Blaine’s alarm on _his_ phone sound at the exact same time, but seeing as Kurt’s alarm plays _For Good_ from _Wicked_ and Blaine’s plays Katy Perry’s _Roar_ , the two mixed together sound kind of off-putting. But they planned it as a fail-safe to make sure Kurt gets up on time, and it works.

“Let’s…let’s never do that again,” Kurt groans, reaching over Blaine’s body for his phone on the bedside table while Blaine turns reluctantly out of Kurt’s embrace to get his.

“Agreed,” Blaine grumbles, picking up his phone and blinking at the screen with sleep-drunk eyes, trying to hit the icons with his numb thumbs that will turn the Godforsaken alarm off.

Kurt manages to turn his alarm off, too, and the two boys stretch and yawn, ready to be awake and start the day.

Except the weight of this morning presses down on them, and they look at each other with serious expressions and solemn eyes.

“So, when…uh…when does your plane leave again?” Blaine asks. Blaine knows when it leaves. The time has been imprinted on his brain ever since Kurt came over, bubbling over with excitement, to show him his boarding pass. Blaine has been counting the hours down in his head since that moment. He also knows that he won’t be there when it takes off. It’s a school day, and he’s already late, but what does that matter when his heart is falling to pieces one at a time?

“10:30,” Kurt says. “My dad’s driving me to the airport.”

“I know,” Blaine says. Kurt nods, and Blaine lowers his eyes to his hands, which have somehow found Kurt’s hands and held them, as if that’s all his hands are meant in life to do.

“It went by too quick,” Kurt says with a slight tinge that would become tears if he wasn’t smiling so hard, trying to keep them away.

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees sadly. “Yeah, it did.”

Blaine runs his thumbs over the backs of Kurt’s hands and stoops over to kiss them one at a time. When he looks back at Kurt, those tears brimming in his eyes have almost broken free.

“Ask me to stay?” Kurt pleads softly. “Please, Blaine? Ask me not to go? Tell me it’s okay to stick around here, and work at _The Lima Bean_ , and put this all off until I can audition for NYADA again? Then we can spend this year together. We can be together…and I don’t have to leave you…not yet. Please, tell me that?”

Blaine sighs. He could tell Kurt all of that. He would love to tell him that, and mean it, but even for just a year, Kurt would wither in Lima. Blaine can see it already.

He might lose a year with Kurt when he moves to New York, but it’s better than taking the chance of losing Kurt completely if he stays in Lima and his soul, his purpose, his entire being starts to decay.

Blaine smiles for Kurt, a smile he hopes will have staying power. It doesn’t reach his eyes, doesn’t chase the sorrow from his face, but it’s all he has for now.

“I can’t,” Blaine says, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Kurt’s forehead. “It’s time.”


End file.
